


what you told me

by blackbirddan



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-07-31 10:47:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20113849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackbirddan/pseuds/blackbirddan
Summary: Last night, Dan and Phil had a talk.





	what you told me

Dan woke suddenly, immediately aware, unlike his usual waking-up routine. It wasn't quite morning yet - the light around the curtains was still dim and barely sufficient to illuminate the outlines of everything in his room. 

He squinted into the semi-light for a moment, trying to figure out why he was awake, when he heard a small sound beside him. It was Phil, and peering over at him he could see right away that his sleep was clearly disturbed, his face tense and creased, miserable murmurs coming from him.

A nightmare, then. Dan reached out and shook his shoulder gently. 

“Phil.” His voice was cracked from sleep, and barely audible. He tried again, louder. 

Phil's expression shifted to confusion as he gradually woke, still and blinking in the grey light. Dan watched realisation pass over his features; still in that strange space between sleep and wakefulness where reality was blurred. 

“You okay?” said Dan.

Phil turned to look at him, as though suddenly noticing he was there. Before Dan could ask again, Phil let out a hitched sigh and rustled forward clumsily in the sheets, grabbing Dan around the middle and burying his face in the curve of his neck. 

“S’okay,” said Dan, hugging back. “Just a dream.” 

Phil hugged him tighter, but didn't speak. Dan let a few moments pass, stroking his back. 

“What did you dream about?” he asked eventually.

“What you told me.”

_Ah._

“Predictable much?” said Phil bitterly. 

“No,” said Dan. “‘Course not. I get it.”

“God, I can’t - ” Phil was quiet for a while, breathing deep, and Dan wondered if he'd fallen back asleep when he spoke again. 

“We'd never have met.”

Dan squeezed him, resting his cheek on Phil’s head.

“What would my life have been like?” Phil continued. “Shit, I reckon.” 

“Hey,” said Dan softly. “Don't say that.” He knew Phil didn't mean it; he was still shaken by the dream. Phil's dreams were always so intense. 

“Well, maybe not - I'd never have known any different, I s'pose. Never have known what I might have had. Who I might have been.” 

“It wasn't real,” murmured Dan. He pressed a kiss into Phil's hair. “Just a dream,” he repeated. 

“I might have seen about it on the telly,” said Phil quietly. “I wouldn't have known who you were, or cared. Probably wouldn't have thought about it again.”

Dan suppressed a sigh. He’d sat down last night to have the conversation he needed to have with Phil, knowing he didn't want him to find out during recording. It was something he needed to tell him first, properly. Just them.

He hadn’t recorded that part of the video yet, wanting to give himself some clearance between the conversation with Phil and the conversation with his audience. Their talk had actually gone well - Phil had been upset to hear just how deep Dan's pain had gone, how truly alone he'd felt; they'd both cried, but the overriding emotion by the end had been gratitude, and profound relief from them both that Dan was in such a good place now, and that they had met when they did. 

Phil's dream had momentarily eclipsed that good feeling with absolute dread; by tapping specifically into his greatest fear and playing it out for him behind his eyes. Dan wondered about the specifics, just how cruel Phil's subconscious had decided to be, but that was information he wouldn't ask for unless Phil volunteered it. 

“Sorry,” said Phil, shifting in Dan’s arms. “You probably don't want to think about it like that. Not after all this time.” 

“It's okay,” said Dan, and meant it. The decision he'd made to talk about it meant these thoughts were bound to come up; preparing for his video he’d leaned into it, like pressing a bruise. 

Phil had gone quiet. 

“It's not that,” Dan continued. “We can talk about it any time. But you don't have to think about the what-ifs.” 

“I didn't want to. I can't help it.”

“I know,” said Dan. 

“I love you,” Phil said simply, voice rough with fatigue.

“I know,” said Dan again. “I love you too.”

Not for the first time, Dan thought about how grateful he was to have this as such a constant in his life, throughout the journey which had brought him to this point. Like Phil, sometimes he couldn’t stop his mind from digging up the what-ifs, the possibilities of what his life might have been like if things had been different. Among those infinite possibilities, the only one he was completely certain about was that his life would have been immeasurably poorer without Phil in it. Dan had been so relieved and happy to have found Phil at that time in his life that sometimes he almost forgot how much it had meant to Phil, as well; how lost and alone he had often felt then, too. 

“Love you,” Phil said again, because he could. Letting reality erase the last of the dream. 

They became silent, Dan combing his fingers through Phil's hair and stroking the shell of his ear in silent comfort. He felt himself getting drowsy, motions slowing; he wanted to sleep, but maybe that wasn't what Phil needed right now. 

He nuzzled his nose into Phil's hair. 

“You wanna go back to sleep?” he murmured. 

“Mmm,” said Phil, voice cracking with tiredness. “I think so. Turn around?”

Dan kissed his forehead and twisted in his arms so Phil could curl around him. They didn't usually sleep intertwined as they got too warm, but tonight he'd deal with it. Phil's hand settled over his heart; he shifted back slightly, closer into his embrace. 

“Thanks, Dan. M’sorry.” 

“Don’t be, it’s okay. That’s what you get for having milky drinks before bed.” He felt the puff of Phil’s answering laugh.

“‘Night,” said Dan. “Wake me if you need to.” 

“I will. ‘Night.” Phil pressed a kiss to his shoulder. 

While it had been a difficult decision to talk openly about his suicide attempt, coming at it from the place Dan found himself in now had made it a lot easier. Once he’d made up his mind to include it, he had worried more about the impact on the people who loved him than on himself. He had lived with the knowledge for over a decade, and had worked through the worst of the pain - for them it was fresh and new, even if it had happened long ago. Tomorrow it wouldn’t sting so much for Phil, and even less the day after. 

Dan was already falling back to sleep. He could feel from his breathing that Phil hadn’t yet, and given how upset he’d been on waking, it might take him a while. He stroked his fingers lightly over the hairs on the back of Phil’s wrist, until he could fight off sleep no longer, and the last thing he felt was a sigh against the back of his neck.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Reblog [over on tumblr](https://blackbirddan.tumblr.com/post/186777903046/fic-what-you-told-me).


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